:. M E M O RY J<^ 

>EMS OF IVA R AND L O VE 



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Class _rPjg^_a_a 5 

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CGEXRIGHT DEPOSm 



MEMORY 

POEMS OF WAR AND LOVE 




A. NEWBERRY CHOYCE 
Lieutenant, The Leicestershire Regiment 



MEMORY 

POEMS OF WAR AND LOVE 



BY 

A. NEWBERRY (j^HOYCE 

LIEUTENANT, THE LEICESTERSHIRE REGIMENT 



NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY 

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 

MCMXVIII 



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Copyright, 1918, 
Bt John Lane Company 



j£F 30 19/8 



Press of 

J. J. Little & Ives Company 

New York, U.S.A. 



©CI.A5U1952 



1^ 



TO THE GLORIOUS LAND OF 
AMERICA 

In memory of those wonderful war days when I made my 
tour among her more wonderful people, the unworthy bearer 
of my Country's noble message of confidence and love, 

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 



ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

Lo! now I see 

Thy dear sons play their part, 

The fair expounding of a theme 

Nearest thy heart. 

A living dream 

Of Liberty. 

Lo! now I know 

That God has taught thy soul 

The highest ideals of His Heaven. 

A starlit goal 

When thou hast striven 

Shall heal thy woe. 

Lo! now I claim 

As proudest of my joys 

I helped the mingling of the blood 

Which fires thy boys 

To work this good 

In Freedom's name. 

New York, April 21, 1918 
(On Landing) 



6 



FOREWORD 

There is a goddess named Mnemosyne, 
And she walks in a garden at twilight 
Where the faded roses fall. 

Lit by the smiles of remembered joy, 
Watered by tears of remembered grief. 
Men call it the Garden of Yesterday. 

And here are scents 
That bring to life dead dreams. 
And here are melodies half -heard 
Which steal upon the silent soul 
To waken days that were. 

And he who would find Hope for coming days 
Shall find it most by reading earnestly 
The dear remembrance of triumphant hours 
Deep in the dark eyes of Mnemosyne. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

England to America 6 

Foreword 7 

Memory 13 

Leadership 14 

Country-Born 15 

Cherie 16 

"No Man's Land" 17 

Sunset 18 

"Attack at Dawn" 20 

Mystery 21 

Until You Pass . 23 

Sacrifice 24 

"Per Ardua" 26 

"Pro Patria" 28 

Your Boys 29 

Sunrise 30 

The Boy Leader 31 

Convalescence 32 

Discharged 33 

One Day 35 

"Drowned at Sea" 36 

War and Love 38 

My Father 39 

Dreams 41 

A Far-Off Incarnation 42 

The Sedges 44 

A Farewell 45 

My Country Lane 46 

• 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Dreamer 48 

The Idealist . . . 50 

In Love ' 53 

Love Consummated 55 

Eloquence 56 

Persuasion 58 

The Balance 59 

Atonement 61 

The Artist Soul 62 

Redemption 64 

Lines to My Mother 67 

Envoi 68 



MEMORY 

POEMS OF WAR AND LOVE 



MEMORY 

I know a lone spot on the Arras road 

Where I shall hardly bear to walk agam 

For fear of waking those great souls I loved 
Who struggled to a death of piteous pain. 

Ah! I should hear their laughter on the way, 
And round my heart their boyish sighs would 
creep ; 

Till I must long to leave the rushing world 
And steal away to join them in their sleep. 

For only they who tread the tortured path 
Of those torn roads where swaying poplars 
sigh, 
Can dream how God could give no greater bliss 
Than this hushed peace beneath the sad French 
sky. 

I know a lone spot on the Arras road 

That murmurs with the moan of Memory's 
pain. 

And I should grieve my heart with stifled sobs 
If I could bear to walk that road again. 



13 



LEADERSHIP 

England ! who did so much for me 

Hear my glad vow! 

This heart all thrilled with love of thee 

Goes forward now, 

Striving with soldier zeal and help of Heaven 

To merit this great trust which thou hast given. 

England ! if any crimson stain 

Sets forth my share: 

Or hours of patiently borne pain 

Show how I care; 

Conscious, I'll prize the glorious chance to prove 

How all my soul is stirred by living love. 

England! when victory is won, 

If I should stay 

With those whose every work is done 

For many a day; 

Somewhere I'll sleep and maybe dream again 

The joy it was to die with England's men. 



14) 



COUNTRY-BORN 

"Tell me of home again," I said. 
"Speak of the flowers that sweetly blow 
With hues divine out in the fields 
Which all were mine not long ago. 

"Whisper the tale of how they wake 
Each morning to the sun's bright call; 
And then pass on and speak to me 
Their heavy scents at evenfall." 

He breathed it like a sacred tale. 
Love on his lips for ev'ry flower. 
While I — I sat with half -closed eyes 
Forgetting for a little hour. 

The Trenches. 



15 



CHERIE! 

Little French Marie with big grey eyes. 

Are you still smiling each day? 
Bringing the sunshine into our skies; 

Cheering the trenchward way. 
Little French Marie with big grey eyes! 

I hold once again your little white hand, 

Maiden of war-burdened France. 
In a moment of sweet "Au revoir!" we stand 

And you give me a kind ''Bonne chance!" 

Little French Marie with big grey eyes, 

The wildest war night that I knew 
Was more than atoned for by one of your sighs. 
I wrest this great gladness 
From war and its sadness — 
A dream of La France and you. 
Little French Marie with big grey eyes! 



16 



"NO MAN'S LAND" 

I crawled in a spirit-haunted place 
Made wild by many a screaming shell. 
And here and there a dead man's face 
Lay like a livid track to Hell. 

For Night had spread the jagged lands 
With covering veil of sable skies ; 
Yet War still clenched his crimson hands 
And hunted me with gleaming eyes. 

I crawled in a spirit-haunted place 
Made wild by souls that moan and mourn; 
And Death leered by with mangled face — 
Ah God ! I prayed, I prayed for dawn. 

HohenzoUern Redoubt. 



17 



SUNSET 

Last night we stood. 

Just he and I, 

Silent, yet understanding, side by side; 

Until the glorious flame 

That spread a cloudless sky 

With purple and with gold 

At sunset, died. 

And life seemed even sweet 

As like some sign divine 

There came 

The hopeful evening star. 

Clear shining in his eyes 

One thought reflected mine. 

How with such glory in the skies 

High Heaven was scarcely far ; 

How he who would 

Might almost touch the angels' feet. 

So darkness stole. 

The myriad stars outshone. 

And all the time I never guessed 

What grief would strike my hopeful breast 

Ere night had gone. 

Alas! before the dawn came by 
I found my lonely hell. 
The bitter agony, 

18 



The aching pain 
Of his farewell 
Who now with me 
Would never stand again 
And love the sky. 

For, year on year that sky will spread 

With purple and with gold 

At quiet eventide, 

But all unheeding will he sleep 

Among the fallen dead 

Silent, and still, and cold. 

And yet I think that through the years 
When twilight steals across the land, 
His soul will see my bitter tears 
And from the silent lands he'll creep. 
So shall I find him at my side 
And I shall turn and touch his hand 
As in that moment when he died. 
And once again we two will understand. 



19 



"ATTACK AT DAWN" 

Evening sky 

With gold and carmine glowing. 

Roaring still 

The guns that never rest. 

And I— 

Stifling one wild aching in my breast 

For every flower that's growing 

Upon a homeland hill. 

And at the dawn will come 

Death 

To write a roll of fame 

Where crimson blood is flowing ; 

While I look on with half -held breath 

And think of Autumn fields at home 

Where poppies are aflame — 

And wonder will he write my name. 



20 



MYSTERY 

(To a Bed-Cross Boy.) 

I used to think that mystery lived 

On the lonely desert edge 

In the eyes of the crouching sphinx; 

So cold, so calm, so staring, 

And so mocking. 

It seemed to be suggestion of a smile 

That gloats forever enigmatically 

O'er tales of travellers betrayed 

By shimmering mirage. 

It seemed to be 

Mysterious meaning of the myriad years 

Set in the stone evasive eyes 

That none can read. 

Ah yes ! I used to say 

That mystery lived 

On the lonely desert edge; 

But that was ere I found it. 

Khaki-clad, 

In a crumpled, blood-stained heap 

Where soldiers die in France. 

He lay with wide eyes staring at the sun. 

His hands more cold than stone — 

His heart more still than silence of the dawn. 

21 



And as I looked on him, 
My soul was swept with sudden awe ; 
For round his lips there seemed to creep 
A small sad smile and yet not wholly sad. 
Mysterious meaning of the myriad years. 
And — ah ! — I could not understand. 



22 



UNTIL YOU PASS 

(To Jeanne.) 

And when you search through wounded France 
To find the cross that marks my rest, 

I think the grass will hear you come 
And tell it to my silent breast. 

So for a moment in my sleep 
A smile around my lips shall move 

And bid my wand'ring soul be near 
To whisper to you of my love. 

To tell your heart how safe I lie 

And dream my dreams all through the years* 
And you will still your aching grief 

For fear you hurt me with your tears. 

So shall I wait in perfect rest. 

My gladdest dream until you pass 
To know that even Death must hear 

Your loving footfall in the grass. 



28 



SACRIFICE 

{To Arthur. Fallenr— July 15th, 1916.) 

Another wooden cross out on the slopes / 

To show another atom crushed and cast ' 

Back from the path of War. A youthful past 
Buried in crimson with a future's hopes. 
One soldier less to hear reveille call. 
Thou Judge of men and War Lords — ^is that all? 

Another boyish figure laid to sleep 
Down in the soft soil where the poplars sigh. 
A little moan that breathes towards the sky 
And yet is stilled before the shadows creep. 
Two eyes that do not see the darkness fall. 
Thou Judge of men and War Lords — is that all? 

Another home that knows a sudden grief; 
Aching of hearts too happy yesterday. 
And loving lips that trembling try to pray 
When Doubt would kill the courage of Belief. 
A drinking to the dregs of Sorrow's gall. 
Thou Judge of men and War Lords — is that all? 

Another tale of honour carried high 
To be recorded in the Heavenly Plan; 
Self sacrifice of man for fellow man 
Bom of a Christ Ideal that cannot die. 



24> 



A steadfast zeal which fears could not appal. 
Thou Judge of men and War Lords — is that all? 

No ! as the smiles fade in thy young brown eyes 

A Perfect Love bathes thy soul's sanctity. 

God stretches for thee His eternity. 

Another star is numbered in the skies 

And thou art near Him as the ages fall, 

The Judge of men and War Lords — that is all. 



25 



^TER ARDUA" 

Sing a little song for me, 
One short refrain. 
And let it be a melody 
Of pain. 

When you have told the tale 

Of noble men. 

And sung the glorious strain 

That shows how great souls cannot fail. 

Tune then your strings to sadness with a sigh. 

Take up the theme again 

But this time, brokenly, 

Whisper how great hearts die — 

(Sing it forme.) 

And if the world should say 

"Singer, where is your joy? 

Why speak you now of sorrow and of death?" 

Heed not the world. But play 

The song I plead, and in a whispered breath 

Tell me the tale of a boy. 

Then sing a little song for me. 
One short refrain. 
And let it be a melody 
Of pain. 

And you shall tell of tears 
That women weep. 

26 



And you shall sing of foreign soil 

Where brave men sleep. 

And you shall show how all eternity 

Can scarcely find sufficient rest 

For all their weary toil. 

And say how since war's hell began 

To mar the pleasant years, 

His boy's heart well-nigh broke; 

And happy boyhood died 

With the farewell that he spoke 

At a fallen comrade's side. 

(Sing it for me 

With heaving breast 

And soul distrest.) 

Tell me the tale of a man. 

Sing a little song for me. 
One short refrain. 
And let it be a melody 
Of pain. 



27 



TRO PATRIA" 

A mud-bedraggled heap 

Made up of blood, and bone, and clay 

Matted with khaki shred. 

Foetid and loathsome on the summer day. 

Eerie and ghoulish when the shadows creep. 

4<& ^ ^ ^ ai& ^ ^ 

One of our soldier dead. 

In England, papers newly from the press. 
Rustling and crisp, with sickening smell. 
Wild eyes that search the roll of fame; 
And in one soul a swift-born hell 
Of pain that none can guess. 

For God has let her find his name. 



28 



YOUR BOYS 

I see them in the quiet night. 

I find them steadfast at their post again. 

Out of the dark, their faces stern and white 

Challenge my footsteps as I come. 

I hear their "Post correct, sir!" and I see 

In their fixed eyes the dear dead dreams of home. 

But with the dawn they flee — 

Your boys who were my men. 

For finished is their little part. 

The laughing sunlight in their eyes is gone; 

And closer have they crept to God's great Heart 

Taking the pity of their tale. 

But in some world or worlds I'll meet again 

Those soldier souls who fought and did not fail. 

And I shall know each one — 

Your boys who were my men. 

Leicestershire. 



29 



^---^——^ ' — ^^ 



SUNRISE 

(To my sister Mary.) 

Night has been long 

With a thousand, thousand fears. 

At times upon my hps a half-breathed song 

That wakened tears. 

Thinking of you 

I dreamed 

All through the dragging hours. 

And then it seemed 

I helped you gather flowers 

While yet the sun 

Had scarce begun 

His rainbows in the dew. 

And now the shadows steal — 

Somewhere the dawn has stirred. 

I know — I feel 

Across the English sea, 

Somewhere, somewhere the morning hours have 

heard 
Your whispered prayer for me. 

The Trenches. 



30 



m 

THE BOY LEADER 

There down by Arras with his thirty men 
He boldly dared to play a leader's part; 
And steeled himself to stifle every sign 
Of smallest tremor in his boyish heart. 

By glorious days of constancy displayed; 
By little things that proved his soldier worth, 
He caught and held the perfect trust and love 
Of those who shared the grandest task on earth. 

Then came a day when wild and wounded pain 
Destroyed the happy triimiph in his eyes, 
And rushed to overwhelm him in a place 
Where thirty soldiers suffered 'neath the skies. 

And down by Arras there are thirty graves 
Unnoticed quite in War's exacting plan. 
But one boy sobs through many an English night 
And pleads for courage still to play the man. 

Hospital. 



31 



w^mtm^opi/m^vi^ji^ 



CONVALESCENCE 

And some may say that new found happiness 
Is sure inducement to forgetfulness. 

The dim, half-light of dawn is here. 

Alluring warmth of some soft bed 

That lately lulled my every sense 

And soothed me to a poppied dream 

Is gone. More swift than lightning gleam 

My soul is swept with sudden fear 

And every tiny nerve is tense 

As I am back among my dead. 

My life stands still a second's space 
And Memory comes with tragic spell 
To bring me all the cares and joys 
That I have known in other days. 
I tread again War's tortured ways. 
I rise and smile, and take my place 
With England's men and England's boys. 
I share again their glimpse of Hell. 

And scarcely can God's wide eternity 
Have length to bring forgetfulness to me. 

Blackpool. 



32 



I 



DISCHARGED 

(With thoughts of those whom God in His 
Mercy needed.) 

I imagine it again 

Sitting by my fire. 

The loneliness, the weariness, the pain. 

And even its wild joys. 

While all among the glowing coals 

Troop by triumphant souls 

Who never tire — 

Fallen men and boys. 

Every twilight I have tried 

And yet 

Cannot forget. 

For though the free wind urges ^^Live!" 

And all the flowers and birds say ''Love I'' 

How can I smile and take 

The living and the loving Fate denied 

To those whose phantoms come to prove 

That they could give 

All for their country's sake? 

And every twilight I have cried, 
"They did their share. And I—" 
Comes then in bitter irony 
A haunting word sent out to me 

33 



From the marching souls 

In the glowing coals — 

"Die!"— 

And I have not died. 



34 



ONE DAY 

I shall come one day to the hills, 

And I shall lie 

In the clean strong winds that blow, 

And make my "Nunc Dimittis" to the sun. 

I shall seek me the woodland rills 

When war's wild day is done ; 

And England's sky 

Shall make me forget war's woe. 

I shall bathe one day in the streams 

That I may purge 

Every foul and sickening stain 

Of memories that haunt my lonely hours, 

I shall live in the simimer gleams 

And love the drenching showers. 

No winter dirge 

Shall sing me a thought of pain. 

I shall walk one day on the road 

Where Life is free ; 

Where a man may wander yet 

To satisfy the yearning of his soul. 

I shall ease me of Sorrow's load 

Of Hardship's troubled dole. 

Lo! I shall see 

How Peace can make me forget. 



85 



.. v.^ ^^.-^. aJ^ 



"DROWNED AT SEA" 

And through the phantom-haunted night 

My tortured soul must ever go 
Along the dark Atlantic bed. 

Where she is drifting to and fro. 

Until I find the mesh of weed. 

And see her white form gleaming there 

Among the slimy ocean threads 
That tangle all her glorious hair. 

And then I touch the fingers cold. 

The lips which Love hath often pressed; 

While deep-sea fish with curious eyes 
Come sweeping up against her breast. 

At times from out the wreckage maze 
A scaly monster stirs and swims. 

And gapes with spuming mouth to maul 
The perfect glory of her limbs. 

Then must I strive with maddened strength 

To strain her body close to me 
Till he forget his hungry need. 

And wallow onward through the sea. 

At times I clasp my hands and yearn 
With frenzied zeal to kneel and pray 



36 



Swift Death to hush my heart which marks 
Its beating by her rhythmic sway. 

God ! how I hate the hellish hour 

That dragged her to this wild unrest 

Where fish with glassy eyes sweep by 
On pale-black fins that flick her breast. 



87 



.%^ 



WAR AND LOVE 

Fight! 

Using thine every whit of might 

To move 

This faltering world towards the goal 

Of firm established Right. 

But ever prove 

Within thy soul, 

Or life or death thy fate. 

The mightiest Hate 

Is never strong as Love. 

For Hate has birth 
Upon a darkened earth. 
But Love is given 
In God's great Plan 
Straight down to man 
From Heaven. 



38 



MY FATHER 

(Obiit. March 13th, 1914.) 

My father was a very simple man; 

I never heard him say a clever word. 
But oh! his heart was warm. I think his voice 

Would be the kindest soimd you ever heard. 

Big people scarcely saw him. I have seen 
A dozen children gathered at his knee, 

Where in my turn I held the chiefest place 
And loved to see my playmates envy me. 

If you should chance to hurt him thoughtlessly, 
Then he would never blame like other men 

But smile forgiveness. You would hate yourself 
And on the next day hurt him once again. 

The only sort of learning that he had 

Was just the names of country flowers that 
grow 

And animals, and birds. He did not seem 
To miss the wisdom other people know. 

And when he took you walking, hand in hand. 
He'd tell you why the crows live all together, 

What messages the larks take to the sun. 
And where the hedgehogs sleep in wintry 
weather. 

39 



^"•jk.. 



He'd help you gather flowers any day, 
Just all the very kinds you wanted too; 

So large a bunch, that coming home you'd lag 
And he would have to carry them and you. 

That night you'd sit beside him near the fire 
And listen to the songs the kettle sings. 

Or later, creeping to his bed, he'd tell 
You interesting fairy-tales and things. 

My father was the happiest man on earth. 

He never dreamt those haunting doubts we 
share. 
He kept a Sunday suit and went to Church — 

He was so sure his God was living there. 

And when he died he simply closed his eyes 
To take his rest as one long Sunday given. 

So children fall asleep. Ah! that I might 
Have half as safe a journey to God's Heaven. 

And yet he was so quiet. Men would doubt 
That he had ever said a clever word. 

But when he died, the sorrow in their eyes 
Was more sincere than any praise you heard. 

IVe seen some fathers who are great and wise, 
My father was as simple as could be. 

I pity you — you never touched his hand 
Or you would never cease to envy me. 

40 



'mi^'figi^mm^m^^ 



DREAMS 

When my heart sees 

The hands of others hold 

A joy which many a year has known 

My yearning for; it seems 

That I should whine my woe 

To every passer-by, and say 

"Ah, see how gladness ever flees 

My way/' 

But I am wiser grown. 
And when the story of my life is told. 
Whatever lacks, this comfort I shall know- 
I found it in my dreams. 



41 



'ir^'ir-'"^T^ii —j 'I "ti a ' infi -i ^ irniinr i li' r ir^ ^mm i nil 



A FAR-OFF INCARNATION 

An endless age ago, and yet in dreams 

I think it scarce a day. 

The mighty jungle with the sweet sad scent 

Of undergrowth decaying. 

The languorous daytime hours — 

And then the rushing night. It seems 

That I am by the water's muddied brink 

Where the yellow of the moon is playing 

With the black shadows. And the flowers 

Are crimson and piu'ple — ^blurred in the grey 

Of dawn, when I take one swirling drink 

And furtive slink away. 

My mate has fierce green in her eyes. 

And her flanks are browner than burnt sand 

As she crouches purring at my side. 

Or snarls with me upon my way 

To the tearing feasts of the jungle night. 

The dripping blood upon her mouth 

Stains the pale plant leaves as we go. 

And, baffled at times by cunning of our prey. 

We roar our passion through the star-screened 

land; 
But the deep-toned echo dies 
Before the eastern streaks of morning light 
Spread their vermilion to the south. 
And gluttedly we glide 
To oiu' lairs where the wild vines grow. 

42 



r'- .t: ^i^y^'^•( ^ ^ - > ^- 



An endless age ago, and yet in dreams 
I am warring with the wild things of the plain 
And gloating on some dying creature's screams. 
Daring some swaying snake beneath a tree 
Where jagged thorns are clutching at my 

mane. — 
And life is strong, and wonderful, and free. 

For as I walk in English woods — a man. 
Smelling in summer-time the crushed fern 

fronds. 
Subconsciously I sense the Mighty Plan; 
Break free a moment from the human ban. 
Again with glaring eyes I pierce the jungle night 
And roar my fury where the moon's reflected 

light 
Disturbs the velvet of the drinking ponds. 

Charnwood Forest 



43 



te%r-«r^ftrr 



THE SEDGES 

I heard the sedges rustle 

As I stood beside the lake. 

I watched their stalklets bending 

And I feared to see them break. 

But they broke not — 

Only rustled by the lake. 

And a song was in the sedges 
And a soul was in the song. 
I could hear it speaking to me 
While I wandered all along. 
And it ceased not — 
Always singing, this soul song. 

Did it tell of joys now ended? 
Did it speak of years now fled? 
Was it song of old romances? 
Was it dirge for holy dead? 
Why so strangely 
Singing always years now fled? 

Rather say it sang of gladness 
That the future years shall bring. 
And the pathos in the whisper 
Of the song came from a string 
Not yet tightened 
For the trials years shall bring. 



44. 



^ 



A FAREWELL 

We smiled together, you and I, 

And Life was kind 

To let me learn your love. 

We said "Good-bye" 

And parted. Yet you stayed 

Close to my heart in dreams. 

I wonder did God listen while I prayed? 

Then every day will prove 

For you, one constant heaven sent happiness 

Lit with His glad sun gleams. 

And He will bless 

The wildest hour of pain 

For me 

When that He lets me find 

Your kind eyes once again 

In my heart's garden of Mnemosyne, 

South Pier. 



45 



MY COUNTRY LANE 

If I live, 

I will love again 

The little flowers in a lane 

Others have noticed never. 

It is small — 

Four yards from side to side. 

And yet when I have died 

While all the ages fall. 

Its breathing memories will give 

Balm to my soul for ever. 

Days in palaces grow weary even. 
Gold-fettered feet drag heavily along. 
Barefooted is my lane. It leads to heaven 
The wind and I have heard the angel song. 

For, years ago, I caught the hidden glory 
(The wind had found it earlier than I) 
Of bud, and leaf, and bloom 
And what they whisper through the day. 
Why timorous aspens tremble at the story 
And rustle it in reverence to the moon. 
(The wind has set their diffidence to tune 
And foxgloves mark the measure with a nod.) 
I know it for the tiny daisies' theme 
From early dawn repeated, till at gloom 
They close each one a many-petalled eye. 



46 



4 



^HHi^Ai 



For I have learned to listen. (Can you dream?) 
"Oh, have you seen us? We are bits of God." 

It is so small — 

Four yards from side to side 

And yet when I have died, 

I think that God will let me love again 

The little flowers in a lane 

Others have noticed never. 

And if I live 

To go there for one hour of respite given 

Before I hear His Call, 

Then will I praise Him ever 

In thankfulness that He again could give 

My soul this glorious earnest of His heaven. 

Hugglescote. 



47 



THE DREAMER 

One day I shall waken suddenly 
And find you close at hand 
Waiting for me 

In a wonderful garden of warm life 
Where Love is. 

I will leave the world 

All unsuspecting 

And steal to the garden gate 

And enter in. 

But when I reach your side 

I will look into your eyes and say 

The words I have been practising 

Since first I had my dreams — 

''Heart, I love you!" 

Alas! how shall we keep 

Our secret from the world? 

For when I speak, 

Each little flower that hears 

Will lean towards its neighbour flower and say 

"I love you!" 

So right along the wide ways of the earth 

Until the smallest bloom that grows 

Along its utmost edge 

Has echoed my love-tale. 



48 



ISH 



One day I shall waken suddenly 
And find you close at hand, 
Waiting for me 

In a wonderful garden of warm life 
Where Love is. 

• •••■• 

My soul! 
If I should not wake — 



49 



^^j^Vft^sa.^ 



THE IDEALIST 

A wind stole down 

And found me in my heritage 

Along the glorious stretches of God's hills 

Looking for her. 

And I said, 

"If in thy journeying. 

By chance thy whispers one day speak 

To her dear understanding, 

Say I told thee 

I am waiting — come!" 

And the wind passed, whispering 

"Come!" 

For I have sought her 

Night on night 

And aU a life of days ; 

Nor yet have found her eyes 

Except in dreams. 

So in my heart 

A throne unoccupied; 

And all my soul 

Its dearest dreams to realise 

If she were by. 

And though I search 

Throughout a waste of worlds 

Till Destiny's cold hand conclude my tale; 

50 



Till God decide, 

"Lo, now the time is come 

For thee to leave thy dreams 

And stay forever patient 

In My Heaven." 

What matter if I found her 

At the last? 

One thing I know — 

That even God's own Heaven 

Can never satisfy 

Till I have felt her love. 

Then will I even dare 

To drive a bargain with the skies 

And boldly say, 

"if Thou wilt pledge her mine 

Through endless aeons — 

Mine. 

And where no time is, yet allow 

A moment here and there 

In which to love her, 

Then will I. come to Thee. 

But otherwise, 

Counting it lacking of its chiefest bliss. 

No second hesitating 

Thy heaven I do refuse. 

Since that I am most sure 

Having once dreamed of her, 

51 



God's very Heaven of Heavens 

Can never satisfy 

Till I have felt her love/' 

A wind stole down 

And found me in my heritage 

Along the glorious stretches of God's hills 

Looking for her. 

And the wind passed, whispering 

"Cornel" 



52 



IN LOVE 

"Am I the very first?" she asked, and sighed. 

(My faith, I loved her so!) 

It was a moment when I might have lied; 

Instead, I spoke as true men speak. 

Counting it bliss to know 

That love more strong than any pride 

Could hold, tho' she should find me weak. 

"Out in a lone lagoon through many a day. 
Taking the hazard of a shark-mouthed death, 
A diver labours sunny hours away 
Where shadowy sea-depths clutch his stifled 

breath. 
His naked body in the foaming swirl 
Seeking the shell that holds the perfect pearl. 

See! now and then Fate suffers him to find 

A tiny prize among the oystei spoil; 

And for awhile a smaller pearl may blind 

The vivid purport of his daring toil. 

So — many times. Yet ever 'neath the swirl 

There waits the shell that holds the perfect pearl. 

And one wild day the lone lagoon grows sweet. 
That shell of shells is lying at his feet. 
What thought of any pearl on any strand 
Save this that slumbers lustrous in his hand!" 



53 



I might have told her lies. 

I told this tale instead 

And waited for my answer in her eyes. 

"Heart of all hearts!" I said, 

"Pearl of all pearls on my love's ocean bed!" 

We both were silent, then she took my hand 
For, womanlike. Love let her understand. 



54 



LOVE CONSUMMATED 

When you pray, 

Tell Him I love your lips 

And long for their warm pressing 

Night and day. 

My fierce heart is aflame 

To hold your body close to me; 

Kissing your finger-tips. 

Pray earnestly 

And linger on my name — 

Tell Him I love your lips. 

For He will wish to know 

That I obey Him so. 

Did He not make 

My blood course madly for your sake, 

And fire 

My being with desire? 

So is my love made whole. 

When you pray, 

Say I desire your lips — 

He knows I love your soul. 

Admaston. 



55 



ELOQUENCE 

I sought for a word that should show 
The whole wide meaning of my love 
To him. 

And my soul was grieved ^ 

That I could not find it. 

I said, 

"The flowers will know." 

But I was not pure enough 

To read their message 

While the dawn was kissing them. 

I said 

"The birds can tell." 

But they built their nests 

And left me desolate still. 

The world is so small 

And my little word must be most meaningful. 

I doubt if I shall find it 

Under Heaven. 

For it must say: 

"Heart, I have waited long for thee. 

Through weary ages I have lived 

Just for the glorious light 

That looks to me from out thine eyes. 

And I have dreamed 

Through life and lives 

56 



How warm thy two hands are 

To hold me close." 

(This must it say and more) • 

"Heart, is there any place for thy dear head 

Than on my breast? 

And is there any fervour that thy soul 

Has never stirred in mine?" 

(And this too must it say) . 

"My every prayer is prayed when thou art by, 

For God has blessed me with a greater joy 

Than even angels know." 

Then for awhile I slept. 
And by and by it seemed 
That he was given to me 
Before my word was found. 
So could I never tell him 
But must stay — 
Silent, 
Loving him more than life. 

It was a moment only, for he guessed 
And drew me with swift feeling to his breast ; 
And then I think he surely must have heard 
My heart beat out the long-sought magic word. 

Ireland. 1916. 



57 



PERSUASION 

In the strange sea cities I heard men sing 
How Love still rules the wand'ring world. 
But I tossed my head and I smiled my smile, 
And I mockingly spoke of the hateful guile 
That lives in a sea of passions swirled 
And binds two fools with a marriage ring. 

But when the strange and gilded ships 

Came speeding out of a weary night; 

And I saw the eyes of the sailormen 

As they yearned for their sweetheart loves again, 

I envied them their glorious light 

And longed myself for waiting lips. 

In the strange sea cities I changed my theme, 
For Love came by with smile divine 
With a woman's eyes and a woman's hair. 
And I only saw that she was fair 
And how the years had made her mine — 
Fast bound to me in a destined dream. 



58 



THE BALANCE 

So, 

I will laugh while you go 

To the hands and eyes of another. 

Love? — ^my love has died. 

How could it live and know you 

Lying at his side 

With warm, red lips love-prest? 

(Ah, hell of hells!— you 

Lying at his side). 

Every night my breast 

Will burn with maddened hate 

As every night I try to smother 

That other fire 

Of unallayed desire; 

And — strive to wait. 

An hour, a day, an age. 

And you, and he, and I 

Cold, each with worn-out heart. 

An hour, a day, an age, 

And you and I, and he 

All dust. 

An hour, a day, an age. 

And he, and I, and you 

Again out-thrust. 

For Fate has turned another page 

In life and love anew 

We start. 

59 



And then 

Shall come your weary turn 

To learn 

How Love has spun with agony 

His silken mesh for men; 

When that you see 

Another soul gone wild for love of you. 

While you 

Are sick with unrequited love for me. 

So, 

I will laugh while you go 

And when at last 

This hated spell is past; 

When in that other life we meet 

And other eyes are gladdening it for me, 

How strange, and sad, and rightful it will be 

To find you yearning, pleading at my feet! 



60 



ATONEMENT 

She will come again. 

But I — I shall not see her 

Leaning with stretched hands towards the sun. 

And she will smile. 

But I — I shall not know it. 

Or seeing, shall not show it ; 

Nor evermore come near her 

Who through eternity's lone while 

Must pay the price for good I left undone. 

Narrow her grave 

And yet her heart how wide. 

Choosing the souls who share Heaven's light with 

Thee 
Lo, Thou must surely give 
The highest place to her. 
And when she whispers at Thy Side 
Her dear warm love for me. 
Out to the tortured space 
The breathing echo of her voice shall brave 
The bounds where sad souls dwell. 
Shall wake in me the memory of her. 
Making me glad to live 
Even with this torment in my Hell — 
To yearn unsatisfied for her sweet face. 



61 



THE ARTIST SOUL 

(A Parable.) 

There is a road 

Where jagged stones are, 

And I have trodden it with naked feet 

Till now the flesh is tortured, 

Cut, and bruised, and torn, and bleeding — 

And my naked feet are red. 

There are roses 

Here and there 

Leaning down from the steep banks 

On either side the road; 

Lending their glory 

To the eyes of the tired traveller on his way. 

But at times I have forgotten. 

And I have dared to pluck and cast them 

Beneath my naked feet 

To ease my journeying. 

So have I strewn my earth 

With stolen bits of heaven. 

So has it chanced 

The pale blood of crushed roses 

Mingles with my blood — 

And my naked feet are red. 

The road is far. 

I have not started long. 

62 



It well may be 

The white dust of the way 

Will hide the blood upon my feet 

Before the end. 

Yet what shall hide 

The pale stain of the roses 

On my track? 

Hist! 

There Js a little sound among the grasses. 

It is my soul 

Whispering and wondering 

If the Road Maker will forget 

The jagged stones He placed 

Along the road where lay my journeying. 

Blackpool. 



63 



REDEMPTION 

The dead passed to their judgment, and I came 

In my appointed place 

To hear my sentence giv'n. 

Nor ever dared to look upon His Face 

Knowing that even Heav'n 

Had no forgiveness equal to my shame — 

I who had seen His good 

Yet had not striven. 

(But here and there as God gave His decree, 
An angel sighed 
And pitied me.) 

"Thy sin so great, O man. 

That I can find 

No saving grace sufficient for thine aid. 

This judgment then for thee — 

Go forth alone 

And through eternity 

Live in the Hell thine own wild heart hath made. 

Thine evil soul to goodness ever blind 

Can never now in my Eternal Plan 

Enough atone!'" 

Then one stole from His Side 

Weeping awhile. 

My heart forgot its pain 

To hear her loved voice once again 

64 



And see the smile 

For which on earth I would have gladly died. 

"Lord, I have loved him more than life, 

I who have borne his name. 

His blackest sin 

Drove all the gladness from my days 

And burdened me with heartache to the grave. 

So — ^let his Hell begin. 

But know, I claim 

To leave thy courts of praise; 

And since not even Thy great Love can save, 

To help him bear his shame. 

Lord, I was his wife.' 



?> 



And God consented she should share my woe 
In that wild Hell I fashioned long ago. 

(But here and there, in passing, I could see 
Those angels glad 
Who pitied me.) 

So hand in hand, unto the outer world 

Where gleam of Light Divine 

Hath never shone. 

Our tired souls were hurled 

And found the depths to which in life I fell. 

Yet ever through the tortured spaces driv'n 

I held her mine — • 



65 



Loving and strong and true 
As in those days long gone. 

So aeons sped. 

But God grew envious when He knew 
That, having her, I found a greater Heav'n 
Where He had said 
"Let there be Hell." 



66 



LINES TO MY MOTHER 

And if God hesitates, 

Doubting to give me one small spot 

In His wide skies 

While I, ashamed, stand pitiful; 

Not any detail of my life forgot 

Ah ! that He then may be most merciful. 

Judge as her heart dictates 

And read my failings through my mother's eyes ! 



67 



ENVOI 

Twilight goes, 
Yet still shall Memory stay- 
Refreshing with cool streams. 
Hide then thy faded rose. 
Mnemosyne 

Shall guard it well for thee, 
Whilst thou dost come from thy dead dreams 
Back to the world's To-day. 



68 






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